


The Songs We Carry

by LenneWithMilkAndHoney



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fix-It, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Taking It Back, Time Travel, not gonna lose it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-10 04:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18652891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenneWithMilkAndHoney/pseuds/LenneWithMilkAndHoney
Summary: As it's meant to be.As it should be.And the echoes of the voices near him become vivid. And he breathes deep and listens to those shattered pieces of his heart still beating.





	1. Chapter 1

✪✪✪

_Where is he?_

And the world keeps spinning.

_I don’t know._

_He flew_   _right past his timestamp._

_He should be here!_

And time keeps moving forwards.

_Well, get him back!_

As it's meant to be.

_I’m trying!_

As it should be.

 

“Just get him back!” 

The echoes of the voices near him become vivid. And he breathes deep and listens to those shattered pieces of his heart still beating.

Bucky knows Sam is scared. After all, Steve has proven time and time again to be the biggest magnet for trouble.

But this is not it.

_It’s gonna be OK, Buck…_

Yeah. It will be. He will be.

Because he knows. He knew the moment Steve set foot on that platform.

"Sam," Bucky says. His feet are not following any command. Like his body rejects his intentions to just  _keep going._

 

"Come on, man, get him  _the hell back!_ " Sam insists to Bruce, tension and something akin to anger in his voice.

"Sam..." Bucky manages to call again with a firmer voice, getting Sam to look at him with silent despair. "He's not coming back," he says, marveling at how easy it is to put a bland smile in his lips.

" _What?!_ ” Sam is frantic, moving towards Bruce, as if he could do something to fix the machine himself. “Why the hell not?"  And if Bucky had more heart to spare, he would feel bad for how much Sam appears to fear this no-return possibility.

"He's got a life back there, Wilson," he explains, eyebrows rising just a second as his face masquerades with resignation. And Bucky chooses to ignore the way his throat contracts, the way his eyes want to betray him as he says what he never thought he would. "Let him have it."

"But," Sam starts but hesitates, his eyes dropping straight into Bucky's, brow frowning with concern. "Barnes…" And seconds go by with Sam digging into Bucky’s soul, realizing what is there. Now, Sam _knows_. Suddenly the guy looks at Bucky with such worry that Bucky might start thinking he cares about him. "He wouldn't-"

"He should," Bucky continues, feet turning and walking away from the platform that took everything from him. Stepping closer and closer to the shoreline. He sighs. "He deserves it.”

"Man, come on," Sam insists. "You-"

"Stop." Bucky's hand slowly comes out of his pocket. Small reflections of light swimming across the dark metal. Those golden lines that mock him with all the possible paths he could take.

_If I let this go._

To let go. The only thing he had left of the young boy he had been in Brooklyn. The boy who loved. And loves. And needs to stop loving.

"I have a life now too, Sam.” Bucky tries to control his voice and swallows slowly. “My mind is my own.” He listens to the calculated footsteps and knows Sam is now standing next to him. Looking at him like he’s the one hurting. “He's saved me enough times already."

_It’s gonna be OK…_

_  
_

✪✪✪


	2. Chapter 2

✪✪✪

A moment of peace. He knows that’s what he needs. A moment with Sam’s eyes off him. So he pretends to be calm and collected, and that is the easiest part of that day. A mask very well practiced through the years.

_It’s gonna be OK…_

He follows Sam and Bruce back to the house, and after the first minutes of havoc over Steve’s departure, he is thankful for the reflexive silence that settles among them. He pretends not to notice when Sam shares a knowing look with Pepper, and even smiles when she moves next to him and offers a room for him to rest.

Apparently, everyone thinks he will break any minute now.

But no. That’s not the case. He is already broken. But most of all, he is tired.

Bucky lies down on a bed that is too soft, eyes glued to the ceiling in a room that is too silent as he drowns in the emptiness of his choices.

_…to run away from a fight. I’m following him…_

There’s a pain so strong clawing at his skin, at his bones, that it numbs everything else. And it’s stupid, because he knew this would happen. They had spent years fighting for each other, having each other’s backs. That was enough. That was plenty. Steve had done so much for everyone. He knew his best friend deserved a life. A good life. A life with Peggy. So, minutes crawl around him as he tries to make peace with this new idea of himself. In a world were Steve is absent.

_Steve..._

But who would judge a broken man like Bucky Barnes for wanting to be selfish? He would keep it a secret. He would deny it if anyone ever asked.

_Stay…_

And he lingers in his selfishness. Hating it. Hating himself when he discovers his murmuring voice suspended in the empty room as he counts from five to one over and over again as he thinks that, maybe, the next round will bring Steve back.

_Please…_

It hurts. It hurts and it is his own fault that it does, because he was the coward who never told Steve about it. He never asked. He kept it hidden in the deepest parts of his mind. Even when he knew nothing else, he knew the nature of that feeling. Of that devotion.

_I should’ve told you…_

It's so easy to imagine now. Just taking five seconds to look at Steve's eyes and form the words with the care and meaning they held.

_Five. Four. Three. Two. One._

Nothing happens. Nothing happens in the next hundred times he does it either. And Bucky falls asleep without stopping the numbers cycling in his head.

 

✪✪✪

 

"Barnes." He listens to Bruce’s gentle voice before feeling huge fingers on his arm. But he pretends to be sleeping. "Barnes, wake up," Bruce whispers, a tinge of hurry in his voice.

"Banner," Bucky replies with a grunt. "I'm tired. _Please."_ He doesn't open his eyes, but Bruce's hand moves from his arm to his shoulder, shaking him a little.

"I know. But there's something you _need_ to see." That pressing tone has Bucky standing in a second. Adrenaline kicking in and heart pumping fast enough to get him running through a wall at the same time that hope takes almost physical form in his chest.

 

✪✪✪

 

He walks slowly, looking down, still counting seconds. Sam’s voice comes floating near him, and the second voice answering has him afraid his knees might give in. He knows he’s shaking, but does his best to breathe deeply and not let the emotional wreckage he’s become in the last five minutes show exactly how much. Then he looks up, eyes widening at the sight of the shield.

_Is it real?_

The man on the bench stands up, turning slowly. And it _is_ real. This man _is_ Steve. He looks different somehow, but it's him. And he’s now looking at Bucky with a soft smile. Some wrinkles hugging his lips and others adorning the corner of his eyes. And God damn him if Bucky could ever think this man to be anything but perfect.

They keep looking at each other, searching, waiting. Until Sam cuts into their silence.  

"Well…" Sam says, and Bucky can hear the mixed emotions in his voice.  "Are you gonna tell me about _that_?" Sam asks, pointing at Steve’s hand. And there’s a ring. And the hope fades quickly, leaving nothing but empty spaces.

Steve smiles, "No, I don't think I will."

 

✪✪✪

 

Sam leaves them alone. Heavy silence engulfing them for a moment, until Steve, this new Steve, decides to come closer. Bucky knows his expression must be showing things he shouldn’t, but he is falling fast into himself and has no control over anything anymore. Steve’s hand on his shoulder startles him, and it’s almost mechanical when he opens his mouth to speak next.

“Was it a good life, pal?” Bucky asks, and waits for the answer without looking at those blue eyes.

“Look at me, Buck,” Steve says, his voice low, like a whisper.

“Was it good?” He knows he should try to find another question. A different sentence. A welcoming phrase. A friendly reminder that he is, in fact, happy for his best friend.

“Buck…” The hand that was leaning on his shoulder follows the path of his arm, until it reaches his wrist, pressing slightly. “Bucky, before anything else, you have to understand- “

“Come on, buddy, it’s ok.” He tries to offer some comfort, but knows he’s failing, miserably.

“No, listen to me,” Steve’s voice carries despair, and Bucky will do everything to stop it, so he looks up. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be, Stevie. I’m happy for you. Really.” He smiles, feeling how Steve is turning his hand from his wrist until his palm is facing up. “What are you doing, pal?”

“You have to understand that I’m a selfish man, Buck.” And there’s that smile that Bucky has spent a lifetime loving. “You have to understand that I saw a chance and I took it.” And he feels Steve’s other hand moving, until his long fingers are combing Bucky’s hair behind his ear.

“I do understand, Stevie. Don’t worry.” Bucky feels the blood trumping in the wrist Steve’s holding, not allowing him to lie as he wants. As he should. But Steve doesn't say anything else. Instead, he removes his fingers from Bucky’s hair, moving it to one of his jacket pockets and bringing something out, to put it on Bucky’s open palm.

And Bucky looks at it.

“What…?” It's a chain, holding dog tags. And a golden band. “What is this, Stevie?” He asks, holding the tags with both hands to read the serial number. His heart stills in that point where he could die immediately, or live forever. Breath goes out too fast, and he feels the urgent need to sit down.

“It was a beautiful life, Buck.” Steve interrupts his coming panic, blue eyes pinning him to the present. “I couldn't change it in this time. I tried, but I couldn’t. Not without changing a lot of things, Bucky, and I… I’m really sorry.” Steve holds himself carefully, maybe knowing the fragile state of Bucky’s mind. “Buck, I couldn’t change it here, but there. There it was _everything._ And I need you to know that. It was everything I always wanted.”

And as Steve keeps talking, Bucky’s fingers move to hold the ring. A golden band. A simple inscription inside. One that means the world. One that sets him free.

 

_'Till the end of the line..._

 

✪✪✪

 

The sun sets, casting shadows over the busy streets of Brooklyn. And from a window in an old apartment building comes a melody. Something slow and nostalgic. And Steve moves with Bucky in his arms. Rings hidden from the world, hanging in chains around their necks.

 

A promise to stay and love. _Here._

A promise to go back and love. _There._  

 

Two lifetimes with a dream none of them thought would get to have in one.

Steve holds Bucky’s warm hands to his chest. Bucky looks up and smiles at him. And the world fades as they lean in.

_…it’s been a long, long time…_

 

 

✪✪✪

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to get that song back. I had a concept in mind and the execution of it hasn't been the best, but I wanted to get this out of my chest. I hope you enjoy this little experiment.


End file.
